The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [146]
“Well, I sometimes wonder if that’s why we were punished. But I tell you it isn’t fair. I done the best I could...”
Studs yawned. Seven minutes after three. He was going straight home for supper, and then, maybe, he’d read his newspaper and turn in early.
“But I always come to this conclusion. No matter how bad off you are, there’s always somebody in a worse boat. Now take my brother. He’s lived in poverty all his life, and would you believe it, he still has a place with the can in the backyard.
I always tried to help him out, but charity begins at home. That’s what I always figure, no matter how bad off you are, there’s always somebody who’s worse off. Now take him. About six years ago he was living at a place down on Bishop Street, and one night a rat bites the baby and it dies. Maybe I shouldn’t be complaining. But goddamn it, when any night you come home to supper, and you might find a dead wife, it gets you.”
Three-fourteen.
“That’s why I always say to a young fellow, look before you leap. You never know what’s gonna happen, and when you got a wife and love her and got to sit day after day and see her grow old and lose her looks, yes, sir, look twice before you leap.”
Three-sixteen. Studs went to the can and smoked a cigarette. It knocked off twelve more minutes. He worked slowly. Mort’s voice went on in an unpleasant drone, complaining that it wasn’t enough for his wife to get sick, but that damn it if he didn’t go and get lead-poisoning because he knew he had it.
III
“Well, I hope the old lady is feeling up to snuff,” Mort said, as he, Studs, and Al walked to the street car line.
“Tonight all I’m doing is sleep. I was playing poker till three this morning and I’m all pooped out,” Studs said.
“I know what I’m going to do tonight,” smiled Al.
“You ought to. You’re a newlywed.”
“Wrong again, Mort. You guys noticed these crossword puzzles in the papers. They got a contest, and they give real dough to the winners, thousand bucks first prize. Well, I’m working them and trying to get me them prizes. They’ll fix me up jake with a nice new Ford and something to spare,” Al said.
“They’re goofy,” Studs said.
“Now wait a minute, Lonigan. There’s money in them. And I won’t be losing out. Suppose I don’t get a sou out of it. Look at the self-improvement, the words and things you learn. Say, when I finish all the puzzles in this contest, I’ll be knocking you guys for a row of tongue-twisters and the things I know. Take all I learned already. Now do you know the name of a battle fought in England in the year 1066. Well, there was one and it was called the Battle of Hastings. All kinds of things like that, knowledge, you learn. These puzzles are an education in themselves.”
“Well, I leave you boys here,” Mort said.
“Poor devil!” said Al, after Mort had gone his way.
“He got some tough breaks all right.”
“Yeah, he gets my sympathy.”
“He’s white too,” said Studs.
“Don’t I know it? I worked with him for five years now. You ask your old man. He knows Mort. Mort’s worked for him for years. But, Jesus, he’s a tank. He’s got a crying jag on all the time. But then, with all his trouble, you can’t blame the guy. He’s got to drink to forget... but here’s my car. So long,” said Al.
“Don’t swallow that dictionary,” Studs yelled.
IV
The street car was crowded with home-going workers, a swaying mob of begrimed Hunkies, foreigners, who jabbered in broken English and their own tongues, and smelled of garlic. Studs was relieved when he alighted at Fifty-ninth and State. On his way home, he paused at the corner of Fifty-eighth and Michigan, and decided that since he was a little early for supper, he might as well take a stroll over to the poolroom. He met Red Kelly at Fifty-eighth and Indiana.
“Tired, Studs?”
“I feel like a rag.”
“We played on after you left ‘til daylight. I cleaned up twenty bucks.”
“I would have been better off going home.”
“Say, I’ll be damned, Studs, if you ain’t getting an alderman,” Red unexpectedly said, giving Studs a friendly poke in the belly.
“Only a little,” Studs said apologetically.